Open Mike Night
by SargentMom573
Summary: What happens at open mike night, stays at open mike night. Written for the photo prompt of Jensen with microphone in his hand (see cover photo) for the FB group It's Funnier in Enochian.


Dean Picinspiration

Cas was waiting for Dean yet again. This time he knew the word for what he was feeling. Impatient.

To pass the time, which for him once again moved not only linearly but in all directions, he perused the pictures Sam uploaded to his cell phone.

Some were of Sam, some of other angels' vessels but most were of Dean.

Dean, who asked Cas to meet him here, at a venue that advertises an open mike night tonight.

Mike, Cas knows now, was a nickname for a person who was named Michael. What an open mike night was, however, he didn't know. When he asked Dean, he'd just laughed, and said, "You'll see."

There was a sudden and familiar change in the atmosphere, and then there Dean was, striding towards Cas with his bowlegs and smile that eclipsed the sun.

"Hey, Cas! Hope you didn't have to wait long."

Cas now knew the polite things to say. It didn't matter that he'd wait for Dean for eternity. "Hello, Dean. No, not long."

"Good. Let's get some tickets."

Dean purchased two tickets and then led him with a hand on his elbow through a dark and dank hallway that opened into an equally dark and smoky room. Round tables were scattered over a wooden floor and booths lined the walls. Each table has a small candle for illumination. The raised stage came equipped with a microphone stand and two large speaker boxes.

"This way." Dean steered Cas.

Once they were seated, Dean began with what Cas now knows was called small talk. For a being who had spent millennia being to the point, small talk was tedious. However, Dean didn't seem to need anything else from him except a nod or an affirmative grunt once in a while.

A sudden noise made Dean wince and he abruptly stopped talking to turn towards the stage. An extremely thin man was speaking at the microphone stand and his voice boomed out of the two speaker boxes on the floor of the stage.

"Good Evening, everyone!"

Most of the audience including Dean returned an enthusiastic, "Good Evening."

"For those of you newbies. Trisha here has the sign-up list." He pointed to a young girl who stood in front of him but not on the stage, and had a clip board of some kind in her hand. "If you want to sing a song, or read some poetry, or play the guitar, tonight's the night. Get your name on that list. And remember folks, be polite and respectful of our talent tonight. Let's get this party started."

People had already begun to swarm the young girl as he spoke and scattered applause sounded as he ended his speech.

Cas turned back to Dean and repeated the question he'd asked earlier.

"Open mike night is just that. People can do whatever they want to. It's a way for people to share their talents."

Cas still wasn't sure what this was going to be about but he was intrigued as always with learning about new human rituals.

"Will you be participating, Dean?"

His question had Dean's skin suddenly turning red as the blood rushed to his capillaries.

"Nah."

Cas simply looked at Dean. At Dean's request, he'd stopped looking into his soul every time he needed information.

"Would you like to participate?"

Dean now couldn't meet his eyes. Cas had learned a lot from watching humans in general, and Dean in particular.

Dean did want to participate. However, he was abstaining for some reason that Cas couldn't fathom.

"Why don't you go sign your name on the list, Dean?"

"Nah."

"Why not?"

"What if I'm not any good?"

Cas finally understood the problem. Dean was incredibly sure he was going to fail at anything he tried. Even in his successes he only saw his failures.

"Then I'll make everyone here forget," Cas said, making Dean laugh. "Tell me if I'm wrong. The people here are just regular people."

Dean nods.

"They do not sing or write poetry or play the guitar as professionals."

Another nod.

"I think you should do it. They are probably afraid that they're not any good too."

Somehow that made sense to Dean. He nodded his head once more, his decision made. "I'll be right back," he said, then walked to the girl with the clip board.

After Dean came back from putting his name on the clipboard, he and Cas talked in between individuals displaying their talents. Or in some cases, their non-talent.

"Misha Collins, singing _Hey Jude_ ," boomed the skinny man.

"Wish me luck," Dean muttered as he slid out of the booth.

"Luck," Cas watched him as he walked to the stage, talked to the skinny guy for a moment and then bounded onto the stage.

The familiar strains of _Hey Jude_ began as Dean took the microphone and settled on the tall chair on the stage, head partially bowed, eyes hidden behind the cap he was wearing, and began to croon the song.

The noise level in the establishment lowered significantly as more and more people realized that Dean was a natural at the talent he had chosen to showcase.

By the time Dean finished the song, the silence was palpable. As soon as he was done, Dean handed the microphone back to the skinny guy and jumped off the stage. Head bowed, shoulders hunched up to almost his ears, he headed towards Cas at fast clip.

Suddenly the whole place erupted in whistles and clapping and shouts of "Encore, encore."

Dean stopped as suddenly as the noise started, a stunned look on his face as he took in the reaction of the audience.

Blushing profusely, and with a great big grin on his face, he bowed to his audience, as he backed towards Cas at a slower pace.


End file.
